


Crime and Penguins

by findmeinthevoid



Category: Pingu, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Help, Other, What Have I Done, and im down for it, blame the bsd discord, fyonoot is a new ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findmeinthevoid/pseuds/findmeinthevoid
Summary: This is what happens when someone tries Dazai's shrooms and sits down on Discord to chat ships.Also apparently I write off-brand BSD fanfic now. . .do what you will with this information





	Crime and Penguins

**Author's Note:**

> don't judge me pls

Fyodor was rather used to things going his way. Not like that Kunikida man who followed a strict set of ideals and planned his entire future out in minute detail - no, Fyodor was more accustomed to things falling into place of their own accord. He simply basked in the fortuity of it all, little effort required.

Until that blasted Dazai saw right through his entire genius plan with that cursed Nullification ability of his, and now Fyodor was forced out of Yokohama, banned from Japan, deported from Asia, exiled from his own  _ native nation, _ and left with no other place to go but this chunk of ice in the middle of nowhere. All alone, degraded to a petty criminal, lost, hopeless, and,  _ oh, shit, _ now he was going to freeze to death.

He didn’t suppose a penguin would be willing to serve as his underling, now. Did penguins even have hierarchies? It didn’t really matter anyways, no penguin had probably ever laid eyes on this ridiculously remote mass of frozen water.  _ Wait, what? _ Fyodor must have reached the phase of hypothermia that invoked hallucinations, because surely there couldn’t be a penguin waddling toward him at this very moment, staring into his soul with an unusually sharp gaze -  _ what? _

The next thing he knew, Fyodor could no longer hear. The last thing he sensed before being deprived of auditory capabilities was two piercing shouts in his left ear and it was rendered useless. In fact, the sudden extremity of it all, coupled with this abnormal cold (even Russia was never this cold) numbed his senses in shock.

When he finally came to again, he found himself in a very different place. Lying on the ground, his entire peripheral vision was but a block of white, shaped like a dome, from what he could assess.  _ Is this an... _ **_igloo_ ** _? _ he wondered.

With some difficulty, Fyodor managed to lift his head up and instantly felt dizzy. Before his vision could even clear popularly, a black-and-white shape appeared directly over his face, staring at him oddly. Fyodor blinked the spots out of his eyes and squinted.  _ Is that a penguin??? _

“Noot-NOOT,” the penguin squawked.

Fyodor narrowed his eyes further still.  _ What  _ was _ this uncivilised bird of isolation trying to convey??? _

“Hello,” Fyodor said stiffly, ignoring the fact that the figure was, quite literally, on top, and therefore had the upper hand if he tried to put up a fight.

The penguin didn’t appear to even register his words. It simply maintained that stubbornly ignorant expression and came right up next to his ear and-

“Nononono- NO! Please get away from me- I must-” Fyodor jumped up and fumbled around trying to sit up and get as far away from this thing as fast as possible, but it was too late. His only functioning ear was now also dysfunctional.

Fyodor glared at the penguin for all his now-lowly life was worth. Old Fyodor would have calmly ignored such petty annoyances and laughed at the immaturity. Now Fyodor would pull a gun on anyone who even dared to irritate him. But he didn’t have a gun and now he’d lost his hearing. Well, more or less. It conveniently kicked back into action the moment a certain bird came close enough to deliver a certain sound in his ears.

The penguin waddled away, but, much to Fyodor’s unhappiness, returned a moment later with a small bundle of cloth. It carefully unwrapped it to reveal a Thermos of soup (how Thermos containers ended up in Antarctica was anyone’s guess) and awkwardly presented it to Fyodor. Fyodor stared at the offering for several moments, then hesitantly accepted it. The soup was only relatively warm, but the penguin stopped making obscene noises while he was eating, so it wasn’t the worst trade-off. Far better than freezing to death, anyways.

Then the thing came back with a blanket and threw it over Fyodor’s half-numb form. The blanket was heavy, but it did the job, and soon he felt the muscles in his legs stirring back to life.

“Well,” he shrugged, eyeing the bird with caution. “I suppose you aren’t half-bad after all. Have you ever considered being an underling for a crime lord?”

The penguin cocked its head and looked at him with interest.

“Noot-noot,” it said, softer, as if curiously confused.

“Excellent,” Fyodor said, something of a smile beginning to form on his face. “Just excellent.”

**Author's Note:**

> i need therapy


End file.
